Page 90 of Homewrecker

Ravenna placed something into her cart. Her cart was full of groceries. Things you bought when you were stocking a home. I stood beside a display of apples staring like a fucking lunatic.

I told myself:You don’t know anything.

Maybe she always wore her ring. Maybe she was shopping for herself. Maybe she was having a good day.

All completely reasonable. Except my body knew something was wrong before my mind could articulate it. Caleb had told me Ravenna knew their marriage was over. That she was grieving it, learning to stand independently, and working toward being emotionally strong enough for the legal ending.

So why was she wearing her wedding ring like there was still something to protect?

The women started moving, and so did I. I picked up a box of cereal I didn’t eat and read the nutrition facts I didn’t care about.

Ravenna and the woman turned into the next aisle. I followed. I was following another man’s wife around Kroger on our anniversary. That sentence alone should’ve sent me directly to therapy.

Then I heard the woman speak. “…just stay positive.”

I stopped. Ravenna was a few feet ahead.

The woman touched her arm. “It’ll get better. Y’all will be okay.”

My blood went cold when Ravenna smiled.

“Yeah.” She nodded. “I know.”

Everything inside me stopped. Y’all. Not you. Not you’ll be okay. Y’all.

My fingers tightened around the cereal box. Maybe I misunderstood. Maybe they were talking about something else. I had spent an entire year surviving on maybe. Maybe Ravenna needed more time. Maybe next month. Maybe therapy was working. Maybe divorce papers were coming.

Maybe.

Maybe.

Maybe.

Maybe.

Ravenna laughed again. I looked at her ring and suddenly I felt ridiculous. What the fuck was I celebrating? One year of what? Being someone’s girlfriend while his wife apparently believed they were going to be okay?

I put the cereal down, walked out, and left my cart.

I called Caleb before I reached my car.

He answered immediately. “Hey, beautiful.”

That pissed me off more.

“Are you home?”

There was a slight pause. “No. Why?”

“Can you go?”

“To your house?”

I yanked my car door open. “Yeah. That’s fine.”

“I’m across town, but I can swing by.”

“Please.”